


the imprints of a white flag

by inhalcyon



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Coming Untouched, Kinda, M/M, Scenting, Trapped In Elevator, Untraditional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27705605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inhalcyon/pseuds/inhalcyon
Summary: “Wonwoo?”Wonwoo looks up at that, small smile hanging on his lips, “Come here, Soonyoung-ah,”And Wonwoo looks so fond? maybe? fond like Soonyoung has never seen before and the shock of it compels Soonyoung into obeying.“Closer,”“Wonwoo, I’m… confused?”“I know,” he says, then fucks up Soonyoung’s world by deciding he isn’t happy with the proximity and lifts Soonyoung entirely onto his lap.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 169





	the imprints of a white flag

**Author's Note:**

> just wanna clarify there are platonic and non-platonic types of scenting in this universe, so don’t get weirded out by soonyoung’s revelation towards the end. he’d only ever experienced it platonically before wonwoo.

Soonyoung nods to Mr. Oh, the porter, as he swings the entrance open and a gust of warmth crashes into him. He pulls his jacket around himself, realizing how cold he’d really gotten. It’s not much use, his thin bomber jacket is drenched from the inside out.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” Mr. Oh whistles, taking in Soonyoung’s bedraggled, soaked state.

“She’s a mean one, that cat,” Soonyoung replies with a grin, or as much of it he can muster with a face that is taut and stiff from the battering of icy rain and sawtooth winds.

“Go on up and get warm, I’ve rather come to like your bones, mutt.” the old man grunts, gesturing for Soonyoung to hurry up to the elevator.

“Aw thanks _ahjussi_ , I’m touched,” Soonyoung chatters out over his shoulder. If he weren’t so damn cold, he would be warmed. The old grouch rarely has a positive word to say for anyone who isn’t Joshua—Joshua doesn’t even live in the building—much less for Soonyoung who does not exactly fit into the most revered categories of people.

He goes to press for the elevator but there’s a pale ring around the button, indicating it’s on its way.

A figure in a black overcoat has its back to Soonyoung at the door. The person doesn’t spare Soonyoung a glance and Soonyoung is too cold to care about the prickling that starts under his skin.

The _drip drip drip_ of water from the seams of his jacket, the splash of puddles as cars rush through them outside and the howling of wind against the lobby windows plays a momentary soundtrack as Soonyoung thinks fervently about dryer-fresh clothes, radiator warmth, Jeonghan’s unnecessarily (but much appreciated) large bed, _food._

Grimacing, Soonyoung shrugs off the jacket. He could moan at all the comfort he’s conjuring in his head, so, so close. Yet. Why is the trip between the destination floor and the elevator always an eon long? But then again, it would be bearable if the rain had not all but bludgeoned him in the ten-minute walk-forced-run it takes to get to Jeonghan’s place from the bus stop. Within seconds of alighting the bus, Soonyoung had been saturated to the bone.

Maybe it’s an omen, he should've turned Jeonghan down and caught that nap like he’d wanted more than anything else. It’s been a long week.

But Jeonghan could convince Soonyoung he’s not his mother’s son if he set his mind to it, and dangling the promise of a movie, some board games, and takeaway (covered by definitely not Soonyoung) with their friends, well, it was a done deal before he finished talking really. 

A groan jolts Soonyoung out of his thoughts. With a bit of a diseased sound Soonyoung has never heard it make before, the elevator finally arrives at the ground floor. The doors ding open without a problem, though, and he chalks it up to the storm shaking things up as he follows the figure into it, one step closer to shedding this miserable state and diving head, mouth and all ten fingers first into fried chicken and soda.

The figure goes to the far corner and Soonyoung doesn’t even catch a glimpse of their reflection in the mirror until he shuffles groggily inside, the sogginess of his clothes getting too uncomfortable to bear. It’s only when the doors ding closed again and Soonyoung lifts his head from the futile attempt of unsticking the sopping t-shirt from his body that he catches a glimpse of the reflections in the side mirrors.

Soonyoung freezes. All the breath drains out of his body, all his cognitive abilities too.

“Uh?”

“Soonyoung,” a smile that’s not a smile, “hi.”

“Uh, hi,” Soonyoung uselessly repeats, a little breathless, cold and discomfort forgotten.

“To hyung’s?” his smile is more a smile this time, pressing Jeonghan’s floor anyway without waiting for Soonyoung’s confirmation.

The elevator groans upwards, the droplets that fall from Soonyoung’s hair and clothes form a small pool at his feet, a phantom grandfather’s clock ticks heavily in the space between them.

“Cheol hyung invite you?” Soonyoung blurts out when the silence becomes monolithic and digs a heel into his ribs.

“Yeah,” Wonwoo says. He doesn’t follow up with anything and Soonyoung is left to grapple alone with the pressure on his chest.

“Staying the night?” he blurts again.

“Not if I can help it.”

Soonyoung almost snorts, knowing Jeonghan will have his way if he decides he wants Wonwoo to stay but there’s nothing lighthearted in Wonwoo’s tone. His words hang as heavy as the silence, terse, solemn.

Soonyoung is suffocating.

He rings his iced, slippery fingers together, staring devoutly at his feet where he’s placed as close to the door as possible, diagonal to Wonwoo. He can feel Wonwoo’s grimace, a thousand tiny hooks on his back that drill holes in his spine, bringing him a hair’s breadth from collapsing into a formless heap to the ground.

A concoction of helplessness and hot anger flare up Soonyoung’s throat like bile when he notices what he’s doing, when he catches himself hunching his shoulders, entire body clenching subconsciously like it will magically seal over all his pores and glands, as if his biology will miraculously mutate on the spot to save him from this encounter.

He’d tossed that habit when he was sixteen. But this is Wonwoo, unraveling Soonyoung with nothing more than his presence. Sometimes Soonyoung thinks it’s for the better things turned out this way. Lingering too long around Wonwoo. . . he can see himself unraveled all the way to nothing, to the core, to something primitive that precedes the nucleus.

“What-”

Soonyoung isn’t sure if the exclamation comes from him or Wonwoo but the sudden darkness is jarring. More than that, the elevator judders, an alarming screech of metal sounding before the entire thing comes to an abrupt, silent halt.

“Soonyoung?” A pair of hands grab Soonyoung from behind and Soonyoung is not one to scare easily but registering Wonwoo’s overwhelming scent is all that prevents him from screaming out of fright at the suddenness of it all.

“Wonwoo?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Soonyoung says, letting Wonwoo turn him around, “are you?”

For a moment there is no answer. Hands roam Soonyoung’s body, as if to personally ascertain his safety, until they come to cup Soonyoung’s neck, squeezing briefly.

“I’m okay,” Wonwoo says, hands dropping away.

There’s a rustle in the dark before a blinding beam of light pierces it and Soonyoung has to squint.

Wonwoo doesn’t bother apologizing as he redirects the flashlight of his phone to the control panel, pressing repeatedly on the _open doors_ button, _14_ for Jeonghan’s floor, going back to _open_ , fingers eventually flitting over every button frustratedly when nothing happens. 

“Crap.” Wonwoo says, voice low, a hint of alarm tainting his normally impregnable nonchalance. “Crap, _crap,”_

“Wonwoo?”

“I think we’re stuck,”

Soonyoung takes a step in his direction, the urge to cross the distance between them and soothe Wonwoo who’s looking more distressed by the second rising in him, “Mr. Oh knows we’re here, they’ll get us out soon. The storm probably took out the power.”

“Crap,” Wonwoo says again, not seeming relieved in the slightest by Soonyoung’s reminder. 

“I thought you were headed to Jeonghan hyung’s place,” Soonyoung says, eyeing the way Wonwoo checks his phone, then the watch on his wrist, as if to confirm they're in agreement, “are you in a rush for somewhere afterwards?”

“What? I- no. No rush. Just,”

“Just what?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo says without looking at him, sliding down to the corner floor, “just nothing.”

Soonyoung would slide down too, it’s awkward towering over Wonwoo like this, but he doesn’t care to sit in the cold puddle he’s created.

They lapse into silence again. Soonyoung wracks his brain, thinks of taking out his phone to text Jeonghan— or the group chat— remembers there’s no connection in here, shudders as the cold takes hold again, now that the adrenaline of shock is fading away. The power has probably gone out and someone will get them out soon but god, if this isn’t the worst combination of factors to be trapped in.

“Take that off,” comes suddenly, “you’re dripping like a wet dog,”

The instruction isn’t meant to be kind, Soonyoung can tell, but there’s a genuine concern in Wonwoo’s eyes that kicks Soonyoung’s gut.

“If I’m going to get hypothermia either way, I’d like to die with my clothes on,”

“Idiot,” Wonwoo praises, “come here,”

Shrugging out of his coat, he lays it next to him and pats the space.

Soonyoung hesitates.

“If you die on my watch Seungcheol hyung will make a boxing bag out of me and Jeonghan hyung will make sure I recover enough to never die.”

A surprised laugh is wretched from Soonyoung’s throat.

There is a canyon of feelings where Jeon Wonwoo is concerned, a catastrophe tangled up in a patchwork of thick, impossible vines, but none of them course with hatred, at least not deep enough to want to see Wonwoo’s demise. (That's the problem.)

After another moment of hesitation, this in contemplation of whether it’ll be worth staying alive just to slowly go insane from being in such proximity to Jeon Wonwoo or not, Soonyoung wiggles out of his wet upper clothing and lets himself take the space next to Wonwoo on the floor.

“Here,” Wonwoo says, pulling his coat over Soonyoung’s shoulder’s and closing it around him. It’s still warm from Wonwoo’s body, heavily infused with his scent and it’s a brutal show of will and discipline that Soonyoung does not let out an embarrassing moan as he melts into it.

It’s really fortunate, too, because Wonwoo doesn’t stop there. He leans over to do up each of the buttons, head bent right under Soonyoung’s nose. 

Soonyoung doesn’t really know what the point of warming up was when he’s going to die from asphyxiation anyway. Wonwoo is just. . . Soonyoung _yearns_ to bury his face in the luscious hair under his nose, wants to bury his nose in Wonwoo’s neck glands where he's second most potent, bury himself in Wonwoo's chest, sow himself into Wonwoo’s lap, _anywhere,_ to breathe this scent in to his heart’s content.

“Idiot, Kwon,” Wonwoo says, startling Soonyoung and making his breath hitch as he suddenly glances at him, “who stays out when it’s raining like this?”

“I didn’t mean to be there,” Soonyoung defends, “stop calling me an idiot,”

The annoyance almost pushes him to shrug off the stupid alpha’s coat and move away as far as humanly possible in this tiny space, but then he’d be half-naked and wrestling wet clothes back onto his person is a thought so abhorrent he recoils.

Wonwoo sighs and adds nothing else.

It’s silent again, except Soonyoung isn’t having much success breathing properly, terrified he’ll inhale too deeply and give himself away, and Wonwoo is growing impatient by the second, checking his phone, watch, phone, letting out a stuffy sigh to the boxed ceiling before picking up his phone again and scowling.

“I’m not the worst cellmate,” Soonyoung jokes, hating how the atmosphere could shatter glass, “I don’t even snore.”

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to get the joke. If he does, he doesn’t humour Soonyoung. Pulling at the collar of his turtle neck as if it’s choking him, he replies distractedly, “Worse things than snoring out there,”

“Oh yeah?” Soonyoung tries to maintain the playful lilt in his voice, determined not to let a dark cloud hang over them if there is no choice about being stuck together for the immediate foreseeable future, “do tell,”

Wonwoo pauses.

Soonyoung sighs internally. Of course, what’s another of Kwon Soonyoung’s dumb questions to him? Soonyoung is not worth Wonwoo’s time, as he’s proven countless times. 

But then Wonwoo opens his mouth and it’s far more degrading than any silence.

“Your scent. . .”

“Oh,” Soonyoung whispers, flinching. His stomach, throat, lungs, they begin to fill with cement. He inches away swiftly, shame gripping him momentarily before anger and indignation quickly swoop in. He will die a vile, violent death before he allows himself to wallow in front of Jeon fucking Wonwoo.

“I can’t help it, you know.” Soonyoung regrets how hurt seeps into his voice instead of the unyielding fury he’d meant to express. It shouldn’t make him sad or angry or anything at all that Wonwoo, or any other graceless alpha, is averse to his scent, averse to the point of allergy. It’s not his fault.

But it does, make him sad, angry, feel _pathetic_ that Wonwoo can’t stand him for matters out of his hand and Soonyoung is so tired, of feeling this way, of letting it eat him up inside in stoic silence because he’s not supposed to care. And now he feels the need to explain himself to someone who leaves the room when he enters. Soonyoung is _furious._

“I don’t get to choose what I smell like. The blockers don’t work. I’m allergic to all of them. Isn’t that funny? Suppressants put me in the worst pain of my life. I used to bathe in cologne but it was so overwhelming it made me sick. I- I wish I could but I can’t help it. So. Pardon me if-”

“Soonyoung-ah,”

“What,”

“You drive me insane,”

“I just said I’m sorry, what more do you—”

“Soonyoung,”

“—want me to—”

“Soonyoung.”

 _“What!”_ Soonyoung snaps, throwing his hands up, or as much as he can with his arms drowning in Wonwoo’s coat, close to tears.

“I said, you drive me insane.”

“Insane?”

“Yes,”

“I’m sorry?” Soonyoung can’t help how everything he says comes out a question. Because, what the fuck?

“Can you stop talking? Please? Or else. . .” Wonwoo trails off weakly, refusing to meet Soonyoung’s eyes.

“Or else what, Wonwoo?” Soonyoung says, stumped, “Are you going to hurt me? Is it that bad?”

“Hurt— Soonyoung, what the fuck,” Wonwoo says sharply, finally looking up.

“You tell me,” Soonyoung sulks, slightly embarrassed by the incredulity Wonwoo regards him with, like he's the most ridiculous thing put on this planet.

“God,” Wonwoo laughs, “fuck,” he sounds impressed, “you’re adorable, you know that?”

Soonyoung feels like the ground has dissipated under him, “I am?”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Wonwoo says slowly, not reluctant but making certain Soonyoung grasps every word, “why would I? When I want to kiss you so badly.”

“Kiss- kiss me?” It comes out high pitched, alarmed.

“Scent you too,” he adds, flush riding high on his cheeks, “like, a lot, like crazy,”

Soonyoung grapples with words but nothing comes out.

“Just wanted to sit in silence and pretend you’re not here.” Wonwoo breathes, a little regretful, avoiding Soonyoung’s gaze again. “Would’ve all been fine if you could shut up, wouldn’t it? God knows I’ve been succeeding.”

“Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo looks up at that, small smile hanging on his lips, “Come here, Soonyoung-ah,”

And Wonwoo looks so _fond?_ maybe? fond like Soonyoung has never seen before and the shock of it compels Soonyoung into obeying.

“Closer,”

“Wonwoo, I’m… confused?”

“I know,” he says, then fucks up Soonyoung’s world by deciding he isn’t happy with the proximity and lifts Soonyoung entirely onto his lap.

“Are you comfortable?” Wonwoo says, arranging Soonyoung so he’s nestled against his chest, arm curled protectively around him.

Strangely, as perplexed as he is, “Yes,” Soonyoung could stay put forever.

Wonwoo hums, pleased light in his eyes. His fingers sink into Soonyoung’s hair, stroking lightly before picking Soonyoung’s wet fringe out of his eyes, sorting out the small tangles and gently tucking the strands behind his ears.

Soonyoung didn’t think his world could be rocked any further but with this impromptu grooming, he feels dizzy; an attachment forming so fast he could whimper.

“Can I scent you?”

Soonyoung _does_ whimper at that.

“You want to do that?”

Wonwoo grips his chin, tilts it up so their eyes meet, “Desperately,”

Soonyoung stares, wide-eyed, lost, exhilarated. He nods. 

“Honestly,” Wonwoo murmurs, leaning down to skim his nose over Soonyoung’s jaw, sending a shiver and an ache through Soonyoung, “I thought you’d figured it out by now,”

Breathless, trying to focus, Soonyoung leans in, “Figured out what?”

“What you do to me,” he pauses at the junction of Soonyoung’s jaw and ear, grazing lightly with teeth and Soonyoung bucks up with a cry of Wonwoo’s name.

“No,” he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, “I never thought- never-”

Alternatively, it seems like he will be reduced to an incoherent mess of both.

“Why?” Wonwoo sounds bewildered himself, “When you’re so- when you’re so—” his next words get lost in the embarrassing, obscene moan that leaves Soonyoung’s mouth as Wonwoo lowers his face to the crook of Soonyoung’s neck, finding the gland there with his tongue.

“Wonwoo,” the moan spills from Soonyoung’s mouth, “oh _Wonwoo,”_

“So intoxicating,” Wonwoo kisses the praise into Soonyoung’s gland and Soonyoung has to swiftly clutch Wonwoo's shoulders to avoid arching out of his lap and knocking himself out cold.

Wonwoo just breathes him in, goes as far as dragging his wet lips over Soonyoung’s gland before returning to content inhales and nuzzles and Soonyoung’s losing his mind, slowly and all at once.

_“Wonwoo,”_

“Hm,” kisses, more kisses, all over Soonyoung’s neck, throat, glands, pushing away the coat, more lingering kisses lower on his body.

“Please,” Soonyoung knows he’s not in heat, not even close, but the unadulterated need coursing through him is debilitating.

Wonwoo brings his kisses to Soonyoung’s jaw, a pleased sound thrumming through him when Soonyoung’s fingers thread in his hair. “What can I do for you?”

“Bite me,” Soonyoung replies unthinkingly, guiding Wonwoo’s head down.

Wonwoo inhales sharply, glancing up. Hair disheveled, pupils dilated, a wild hungry look dwarfing them, he whispers disbelievingly, “Where?”

“Here—“ he guides Wonwoo’s mouth back to his right gland, aching for it, “anywhere,”

Wonwoo possesses enough sanity for them both to not take Soonyoung up on that right now. He doesn't bite, but his mouth does open against the gland, teeth dragging over the junction, his saliva mixing in with Soonyoung’s pheromones at the source. A merge, a claim. Temporary. Soonyoung’s body goes haywire the second it happens.

He bucks up acutely, fingers bunched in the fabric of Wonwoo’s sweater as he cums in his pants, Wonwoo’s name garbled in his throat.

Wonwoo starts to bite, higher up on Soonyoung’s throat, small stings soothed over with wet lips and ample affection behind each kiss. When he starts sucking a bruise into the juncture of Soonyoung’s jaw and throat, fingers cupping Soonyoung's neck and thumbs pressing down on his glands, Soonyoung is hit by a second wave of pleasure and his body seizes up again. Wonwoo hums in satisfaction into his skin, like a true bastard, and Soonyoung’s brain disconnects from overload, the world turning black.

“Back with me, baby?”

“Wonwoo?” says Soonyoung, feeling strung out, stupid, disoriented. 

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo says softly, holding Soonyoung closer to his chest, looking as sorry as a pleased cat, “I didn’t realize you’d be so sensitive,”

“My first time,” Soonyoung finds himself blabbing, immediately swallowed by regret.

Wonwoo’s eyebrows knit, “Your first time?”

“Being scented,” Soonyoung clarifies, self-conscious but resigned now that he’s already outed himself, “by someone I don’t share DNA with or I’m not comfortable scratching my butt in front of,”

Soonyoung is mortified the minute the words leave his mouth, of course, but he blames Jeon Wonwoo for obliterating his cognitive functions like this. It’s Wonwoo’s fault he can’t think straight.

“You can do that in front of me,” Wonwoo, the terrible bastard, grins, “if I can do the same,”

“Ugh,” Soonyoung shoves his face into Wonwoo’s shoulder, “still can’t believe I passed out. Humiliated,”

“Disagree,” Wonwoo lifts Soonyoung’s head by tugging light on his hair, “so hot,” he presses their foreheads together, “want to do that to you again,”

“Wonwoo,” Soonyoung groans, “want that, want you,”

“Yeah?” he strokes Soonyoung’s throat, glands, like he can’t bear to stop touching him and imprinting his scent all over his skin.

“Yeah,” Soonyoung says thinly, dizzy again, “yeah, please,”

Wonwoo leans in, trained on Soonyoung’s lips and Soonyoung keeps thinking _yes, yes, please,_ and the elevator judders alive, bright.

“Perfect,” Wonwoo mutters, sounding like it’s anything but that as Soonyoung sighs disappointedly.

“Come home with me?” Wonwoo says, even, casual almost. But there’s the high flush in his cheeks again, and the way his fingers curl around Soonyoung’s throat as if to keep him in place, keep him from leaving Wonwoo. As if Soonyoung had the energy even if he had the will.

“If we leave tonight? Tomorrow morning? We don’t have to do anything but,” Wonwoo continues in a rush, “I just don’t think I can let you go like this? But it’s okay if you don’t—“

“Yes,” Soonyoung presses his mouth to Wonwoo’s, “shut up, yes, I'll go with you,”

When the elevator doors open, a frantic Yoon Jeonghan, a mildly concerned but more disgruntled Mr. Oh, and a hurried repairman find them like that.

Naturally, Jeonghan takes a picture.

**Author's Note:**

> there's a pining filled back story and a streamier aftermath, i may write? either way i hope the context was enough here, but feel free to ask if there's anything you're curious about. thanks for reading :D


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